


Brother's Burden

by Lokiscribe



Series: To Go On Living [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Gen, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, Loki Feels, Loki's Punishments, Loki-centric, Poor Loki, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Thor, Slave Loki, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokiscribe/pseuds/Lokiscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As punishment for his crimes on Midgard, Loki has been forced into slavery on Asgard. Initially resistant to his fate, he is now completely broken down from months of constant torture and abuse.</p><p>When Thor finally comes face-to-face with the realities of Loki's enslavement, it is worse than he ever expected. </p><p>“Brother,” he choked, trying to prevent the contents of his stomach from rising into his throat. “What has been done to you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brother's Burden

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY. I'm so glad to get this up for you guys. It's been way too long. I hope you enjoy it. The beginning is a bit fluffy, which I didn't intend at first, but I ended up liking what I wrote, so I kept it. Plus I think it sets up a good contrast between Thor's life and Loki's. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: While there is no actual rape in this story, there is mention of rape in general. 
> 
> The title may change. Let me know if you have better ideas, or if you like what I have now. 
> 
> This story will probably be better appreciated if you first read "In These Halls" - part 1 of the series. Otherwise it may not make sense to you why Loki acts the way he does. Be warned though, that installment is much darker and more graphic than this one.
> 
> The only characters that are mine are the overseers and Enforcers. Otherwise I own nothing. Everything belongs to Marvel.

Thor raced across the lush green grass of the palace’s lower gardens, his lungs burning both from physical exertion and from attempts to suppress laughter. Close beside him, Sif, too, sprinted across the green, an exulted smirk showing plainly on her face as she fought to overcome her companion. The winds whipped through their hair as they ran determinedly for the tree resting against the palace wall forming the western border of the garden. The sun had now risen halfway into the sky, and the massive tree’s branches shaded the wall’s windows as Sif and Thor barreled across the last few meters of their path. 

In the final seconds of the race, the two were neck-in-neck, but just as it seemed that perhaps Sif might win, Thor found a burst of strength and rotated his shoulder, hurling his arm forward to touch the tree just milliseconds before her. Puffing and panting, they both leaned up against the trunk, trying to replenish the air that had left their lungs amidst the strenuous exercise. 

Thor groaned good-naturedly. “Lady Sif, you nearly had me! It seems I must be more diligent in my training!”

Sif grinned. “Perhaps you ought to spend more of your leisure time running with your own legs rather than willing a horse to do it for you.” 

Beaming back at her, the Prince of Asgard gave the female warrior a friendly bump on the shoulder. “I think it is not nearly often enough that I take your advice, Sif.”

“You’d be better off if you’d figured that out a long time ago, _my prince_ ,” she teased. ”But worry not, I take no offense at your refusal to listen to me, a mere _woman_.”

“Sif!” Thor exclaimed, his shock evident as he climbed swiftly to his feet. “Surely you know I do not view you in such a condescending manner!” 

She rolled her eyes. “For Valhalla’s sake, I’m _teasing_ you Thor. Are you _entirely_ incapable of sensing a jest?” 

“It never was a strongpoint of mine,” Thor admitted with a grin. “I would think all of Asgard had realized that by now.” He extended a hefty hand to his companion, who still sat on the soft moss below him. “My Lady?” he offered courteously. 

Sif raised an eyebrow. “And you claim not to condescend.” 

The God of Thunder dropped his hand to his side, looking not unlike a hurt puppy. “I meant no harm, Lady Sif!”

“No, you did not,” she conceded, claiming to her feet unassisted. “It is not your fault that our world regards women so pitifully, I know. All the same…” her voice died off. 

“What is it?” Thor inquired, noting that Sif had looked away from him. “Are you greatly offended, Lady Sif?”

“No…” she began. “It simply frustrates me endlessly that no matter how I prove myself, physically or intellectually, it’s automatically assumed that I must rely on a man to get by. I mean, can you imagine, Thor? Can you imagine if, despite all you’ve done as Mjolnir’s wielder, your subjects were to question your abilities? And there was nothing you could do to change that?”

“I understand, My Lady,” Thor said quietly. “I promise I will make every effort to be more considerate towards you in the future.” 

Sif nodded soberly. “Thank you, Thor. You are most gracious in your receipt of criticism. I remember that was not always so.”

“No,” Thor laughed. “Thank the Norns that I am no longer the rash boy I used to be.” 

Sif snorted. “We ought to drink to tha- ” She abruptly broke off mid-sentence, eyes widening. “THOR! Are you watching the time? Didn’t you say you were meeting with your father today?”

Amidst all their fun, Thor had completely forgotten. “Damn!” he swore. “I must be going; I presume you’ll understand?” 

A swift nod from Sif, and then he was off, racing not across a green lawn this time, but across stone floors as he bolted to his quarters to wash and change. 

*****

Loki walked into the small lounge for what must have been the fifteenth time that morning, carrying on this occasion a platter of small cakes. His entire day so far had consisted of journeying back and forth between the kitchens and this room, transporting food items and pitchers of wine to the tables that he and two other slaves had been instructed to prepare. Physically, the work was not challenging, and Loki wished he could fully appreciate that fact, but there were so many other hardships of slavery apart from simply the bodily labor. 

It was surprisingly difficult to remember to keep his head lowered as he hurried through the halls of the palace. Already he was covered in fresh bruises from the times he had raised his head that morning to check where he was going, unaware that he would make eye contact with a free man by accident. 

It was also torturous to be in such close proximity to so much food, yet be permitted none of it to fill his empty, aching stomach. Several times, his overwhelming need to eat almost defeated his carefully crafted self-control, but, as always, the fear of pain and punishment kept him from attempting to steal anything. 

And, though it seemed inconsequential compared to some of the horrors he had experienced these past months, he found it absolutely maddening to repeat the same mundane tasks over and over. The lack of physical challenge in this particular assignment rendered it especially impossible to stave off the boredom. And to make matters even worse, his lack of mental distraction brought his attention even more strongly to his hunger. 

There really was no true reprieve for a slave. 

The only consolation he had was in the small details that created at least momentary relief from the monotony - for instance, how curious that it was wine he had been instructed to deliver? He’d prepared a number of catered events in what he estimated to be the six months of his captivity, and always the drink of choice had been mead or a strong ale. Wine was generally considered a weak drink, certainly not a very masculine one. It didn’t seem logical to expect the usual crowd of loud, boisterous noblemen. Loki had occasionally sipped wine with Odin when called to the Allfather’s presence while still a free man, but it seemed unlikely that Odin would be the attendee in this situation. Loki doubted that any of the overseers would be foolish enough to assign him to a detail so closely connected to his past life, and besides, he’d had that startling chance encounter with Odin just a few weeks earlier. He judged the chances of randomly seeing the Allfather again so soon to be slim to none. 

He didn’t know who else would possibly request wine for a mid-day refreshment, but he supposed he would find out. 

*****

A servant jumped involuntarily as Thor slammed the door on the way out of his chambers. The golden prince muttered a quick “sorry,” before hurrying down the hall toward the stairs. He had somehow managed to bathe and change with remarkable speed, but he still did not know if he would be able to arrive early enough so as to not keep the Allfather waiting. They would be discussing the new duties Thor would take on when he replaced his father as king - obviously quite an important matter. 

The date of the coronation had not yet been set, but it would inevitably occur before the year’s end, and Odin wanted to ensure that Thor was prepared. The god of thunder was more than ready to comply with the Allfather’s wishes - he had already shown once before that he was unfit to be king and had no wish to commit such grievous errors again. He dreaded the thought of Odin now judging his tardiness to be a sign of irresponsibility. 

The last time he had failed, Loki had been available to take the throne when the Allfather fell into the Odinsleep. But now, given his brother’s horrendous crimes and consequent… enslavement.... there was no longer anyone to take Odin’s place should Thor prove himself unworthy once more. With the hostility of Jotunheim and threats from other realms, Asgard could not afford to be without leadership, no matter how short a period of time. 

He felt a stubborn anger at the thought that Loki couldn’t just step in if necessary. He understood and fully agreed that Loki needed to be punished for his transgressions, but it seemed unnecessary to remove him from the succession… Thor had been given the chance to earn his way back, so why not Loki? The trickster’s wrongdoings may have been more severe, but Thor’s own transformation had shown that it was possible to turn one’s life around. The golden prince had no doubt that Loki could be saved; could be returned to his old self. But instead, Odin had ordered him to be enslaved… and it had never really sat right with Thor. It seemed too extreme, too far a downfall to bestow upon a prince, even one who had perpetrated horrible misdeeds. 

But it had not been his decision to make. 

_Maybe when I’m king_ , thought Thor as he rounded a corner into the proper hallway and began searching for the door of the lounge in which he and Odin would meet, _I’ll adjust Loki’s sentence_.

*****

Whoever Loki was supposed to be waiting on was late. He and the other slaves assigned to prepare the lounge had finished their task quite a while ago now and were standing quietly in a line, eyes down and hands clasped in front of them. Not one of them made a sound or attempted any movement. There were no overseers in the room at the moment, but all of the enslaved knew that even when they appeared to be alone, they were in fact never far from one with the power to punish. 

So they dared not move. They stood still and waited for orders.

In the past few months, Loki had nearly perfected the art of obedience. As well as a slave could, anyway. The overseers found fault in many of his actions despite this, but it was well known by the slaves - and they sometimes whispered about this at night in their cells before lying down to sleep - that a slave didn’t need to actually do anything wrong to earn a punishment. They were not real people, after all, and the same standards for justification of bodily harm did not apply to them. 

So they remained silent and motionless. After a few more moments, two people entered the room. Loki, from his peripheral vision, could see that it was both an overseer and an Enforcer. This did not bode well. Enforcers did not oversee the daily tasks of the enslaved, so for one to be present now indicated that this particular overseer was being evaluated. In other words, he would be eager to prove to that he showed proper brutality towards the slaves. 

Loki felt a cold dread spread throughout his body, and he could sense the barely discernible movements of the laborers around him as they, too, grew increasingly afraid. 

“You see?” began the overseer. “They’re all behaving. Not moving, any of them.” 

The Enforcer shook his head. “You must be vigilant. You must learn to sense even the slightest tendency toward a lack of discipline.” He gestured toward the line of weary drudges. “Go on, get closer to them. If you look hard enough, you will see that they are not so perfect.” 

The overseer snorted. “Not that slaves are ever perfect.” He sauntered over to the workers, getting obnoxiously close to each of them as he paced down the row. His unkind eyes glared at their faces, flitting down the length of their bodies. 

The Enforcer, too, drew closer, trailing the overseer as he performed his inspections. 

When the overseer passed Loki, the close proximity of the two men led to the superior’s sleeve brushing across slave’s nose. 

To Loki’s horror, he felt the desire to sneeze arise in him. 

He desperately tried to suppress it, but the itching was relentless, and before long, he couldn’t prevent it. 

He sneezed. Quite audibly. 

Instantly, the Enforcer’s hand was around his neck. 

“Insolence!” he hissed. He whipped his head around to glower at the overseer. “You see? There is always a slave in need of correction, no matter how well behaved a group of vermin appears.” 

He threw Loki to the ground, delivering a kick to his midsection that left him gasping for air. 

“And this one,” growled the tormenter, “Clearly needs some help learning his place!” He grabbed a fistful of Loki’s hair and pulled him to his feet, punching him in the face no sooner than he had done so. 

Loki felt his nose break, and his mouth filled with blood. He wanted to scream and moan, but forced himself to remain quiet but for a few whimpers, knowing that any noise he made would only worsen the beating. 

“Who do you think you are?” snarled the Enforcer, nearly knocking over the other servants as he pushed Loki backwards and slammed him against the wall. “Huh, slave? Tell me!” 

Choking, Loki tried to answer. “I… I…” he coughed, but blood constricted his airway and he could not manage to form a sentence. 

But then a booming voice sounded over that of his tormenter, demanding, “What is the meaning of this?” 

The Enforcer’s hand relaxed, but did not release him. All the same, the lapse in pressure made it much easier for Loki to breathe and to swallow some of the blood that filled his mouth. He closed his eyes and just tried to recover from the assault. 

Then he heard a voice call him, a voice filled with horror. 

“Loki??”

The slave’s eyes shot open in alarm. 

He found himself looking directly at Thor. 

\---- 

Thor couldn’t believe his eyes. 

It was undoubtedly Loki that stood before him, but his appearance was much changed. He looked half starved, and his clothing was hardly better than rags. His hair had been cut short, and he seemed hunched over, as if from exhaustion. 

Indeed, he looked tired. And… was that… fear… in his eyes? Yes, fear… it was unmistakable, in fact. Thor had never seen his brother look so terrified in his life. 

The prince hardly had time to dwell on this though, because to his shock, the slave in front of him almost instantly dropped to his knees, his head bowed and his hands folded in his lap. 

“ _He’s showing proper respect_ …” Thor thought sickly. 

“Brother,” he choked, trying to prevent the contents of his stomach from rising into his throat. “What has been done to you?”

\----

Although his shock on this occasion easily matched the shock he had felt upon seeing Odin several weeks ago, this time Loki was quicker to react. He instantly fell to the ground, showing due submission to his prince and future king. He did not prostrate himself quite as severely as he had before the Allfather, but really it was not necessary to do so. His actions last time had been excessive. As long as he knelt and kept his head down, that was sufficient to satisfy the requirements for respectful conduct. Frankly, overdoing it could be dangerous, as the overseers looked for every reason to lash out with their crops, even if the slave was trying to perform well. Their principal goal was to ensure that fear remained their primary emotion, so it did not much matter whether a punishment was deserved or not. Beatings kept them afraid and therefore determined to obey. 

Loki, as he always did nowadays, felt terror at seeing his brother before him, but having already experienced an unexpected family reunion by now, he was able to apply his fear toward appropriate action. 

“Loki??” he heard Thor say, the thunder god’s voice thick with emotion. “What has been done to you?”

Loki looked blankly at the ground. It was still so strange to hear his old name spoken. “I am serving my sentence, My Prince. As a slave to Asgard.”

He heard Thor draw in a sharp breath. “I… did not realize it would be like this…” 

_Of course you didn’t_ , thought Loki, but sharp replies were no longer in his vocabulary, so instead he responded, “I’m sorry, My Prince, I do not understand.” 

Because while it seemed ridiculous that Thor hadn’t realized what slavery would mean for him, Loki honestly couldn’t comprehend why the future king would have expected any differently. Had he never before taken notice of the slaves laboring around him? 

“Well… I mean… you…” Thor stammered. “Have… when was the last time you… have they been… feeding you?” His words, uncharacteristally awkward for one so noble, were a mix of discomfort and horror. 

Loki’s stomach growled traitorously at the mention of food. He hadn’t eaten in hours, and it of course when he had, it was hardly anything at all. 

“I am fed the same as the other slaves, My Prince.” 

“Loki…” Thor sounded pained. “Brother. You don’t have to call me that.” 

In his shock, Loki almost lifted his head to stare at the god standing over him. He caught himself, but couldn’t quite keep the disbelief out of his voice when he said, “Wh-what do you mean… s-s-sir?” 

He flinched, knowing that such a title was horribly inadequate for a prince. 

For a king. 

He ought to be beaten within an inch of his life for showing so little respect, and to _Thor_ , of all people.

But nothing happened. 

“Loki…” the thunder god said again. “It is no different than before… I am “brother,” or just “Thor… that will be more than sufficient. You owe me no respect.” 

The slave’s eyes widened. “B-but, My Prince! I couldn’t possibly - !” 

“Brother!” Thor cut him off, agitated. “Stop this! You are being ridiculous!” 

Immediately, Loki cowered, his intensified shaking prompting a trail of blood to run out of his nose and over his top lip. “I am sorry!” he cried. “I am so sorry for upsetting you, please forgive me!” 

“Forgive - Loki, since when do you ask for forgiveness?” Thor was bewildered. “From me? And why do you tremble so? I will not harm you!” 

Loki stammered in reply, “My - My Prince… Thor… I am a slave of the realm. My superiors deserve my submission and deference.” 

“Your superiors?” Thor choked. It seemed to be that moment when something snapped within him. 

“Alright, come, Loki.” He said briskly. “You’re coming with me.” 

The injured slave leapt to his feet immediately, only to double over from the pain in his gut. He had taken a bad beating, short as it was, and remaining upright was difficult. Slowly, painstakingly, he crossed the room to where the crown prince stood. 

Thor placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but the look he then gave the Enforcer was anything but. “I will deal with _you_ later!” he snapped. 

Then he whirled around and swarmed out the door, forcing Loki to scramble to keep up. Hearing the whimpers of pain behind him, Thor stopped abruptly and turned, an expression of horror spreading across his face. 

“I am so sorry Loki, I forgot!” 

“It... is no matter!” Loki gasped, gulping for air. 

Thor spoke softly, with more than a hint of sadness. “Of course it is, brother. We will walk as slow as is necessary.” 

Loki’s eyes conveyed the gratitude that was too difficult for him to vocalize, and they continued moving through the hall, which was, thankfully, empty. He wouldn’t have wanted to see the looks on freemen’s faces when they saw him and Thor together. It just wasn’t right anymore. 

But Loki had been directly ordered to follow, and so he obeyed. 

He wondered where they were going but was afraid to ask. The question lingered in his mind for several moments, until he decided that, since Thor had so far not hurt him, he would take the risk. 

“Th-Thor?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes? What is it brother?” 

“I… I wanted to ask…” he winced. “I mean, if it’s permissible, of course,” he added quickly. 

Thor sighed. “Brother, you may ask me a question whenever you wish. You do not need permission to speak to me.” 

Loki’s brows furrowed in confusion (Thor’s words went against everything he had been taught in the past few months) but did not seek clarification.

“Where are we going?” he asked timidly. 

“I am taking you to my quarters, Brother.” 

At this, Loki was speechless, for it was unthinkable that he would step foot in the royal apartments! Slaves never entered those rooms; the necessary housekeeping tasks were carried out by paid servants. Would he be disciplined for going there? Even though Thor had ordered him to come, a slave’s presence in the crown prince’s rooms was unprecedented, so undoubtedly there was no policy or procedure excusing him from punishment. 

Loki trembled ever so slightly, but he remained silent and hurried after the god of thunder. 

\----

In a million years, Thor could never have described how he felt as he and Loki moved toward his quarters. 

His emotions sat heavily in his chest, forming an uncomfortable clump in his gut that only seemed to wane when he focused on the task at hand. 

That task was, at the moment, to escort his brother away from harm, but even with his fierce concentration, he couldn’t completely dispel the dismay, confusion, anger, and concern that he felt eating away at him. What scared him even more than his brother’s sickly appearance was his blatantly obvious _fear_ … Loki may have been jealous of him in the past, but never had he feared him. At no time had Thor given him _reason_ to be afraid! He was entirely at a loss to understand his brother’s behavior.

When they reached Thor’s room, Loki was panting, and Thor thought angrily to himself that he should have paid more attention to his brother’s fatigue. He had even promised Loki they would walk slowly, and then he had broken that promise. _This is how I nearly lost my brother in the first place_ , he thought wistfully. _I must do better_. 

Loki deserved better from him. 

Especially now, when Thor’s own naivety and lack of interference had allowed Loki to become a shadow of the god he once was. 

He pushed open the heavy door to his bedchamber and held it for Loki, who hesitantly stepped inside. He walked almost gingerly, as if he expected the floor to burn his bare feet. 

“Have you no shoes, brother?” Thor inquired. 

Loki shook his head. “We are not given footwear, my -“ he stopped, wincing at his error, before repeating, “We are not given footwear, Thor.” 

Thor frowned. “But why not.” 

Loki shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “It is not necessary… Thor.” 

“… Oh,” he responded lamely, discomfort washing over him, as well. He decided reluctantly that he would have to resign himself to awkward conversation for the time being. 

“Well, I am going to fetch some water from the washroom. Please sit down,” he offered, gesturing toward the sitting area adjacent to his bed. 

Loki’s eyes widened. “But… Thor… I can fetch the water; you do not need to -“

“It is no matter,” Thor said firmly, but not unkindly. “I shall return momentarily.” He left before Loki had a chance to protest. 

When he entered the bedchamber once more, he was taken aback to find Loki sitting on the floor next to the large red sofa. 

“Loki,” he said, surprised. “What are you doing?” 

It was the wrong thing to say, for his brother instantly grew fearful. “I thought you told me to sit, Thor. Was I mistaken?” 

“No… but I intended for you to sit in a chair, or on the couch.” 

Loki’s eyes widened even further, the fear replaced by pure bafflement. “You would have me sit on your furniture, Thor?”

“Why, of course!” he responded in astonishment. “When have I ever forbidden you that?”

“You haven’t explicitly done so yourself,” said Loki, shifting restlessly from his position on the floor. “It’s just… the law.” 

“The law? Whatever do you mean?”

Loki looked up at him, his face unreadable. “I am a slave, Thor. We are not allowed to sit on furniture, especially not if it belongs to a free person.” 

The prince was shocked into silence. Never before had he realized just how little slaves were permitted, or just how inferior they were regarded in comparison to the freemen around them. He really didn’t know what to say, so instead he indicated that Loki should sit on the sofa and then poured him a glass of water. 

“Thank you, My Prince,” his brother murmured, immediately raising the glass to his lips.

Thor noticed the title but did not comment on it. 

“You may have as much as you wish,” he said. He poured himself a glass as well, then sat on the couch next to Loki, who shot him a quick glance before beginning to sip. The first swallow was a slow one, but then he seemed to abandon all manners and began to slurp and gulp loudly, finishing the cup in under five seconds. 

He looked questioningly at Thor, who smiled and lifted the pitcher to give him more. Loki drank three more glasses in this manner before Thor told him he should stop, lest he make himself sick. Loki looked disappointed, but he nodded. 

“Shall I call for food as well, brother? You look as though you could use some sustenance.” 

“Oh, I don’t need anything, Thor,” said Loki, a little too quickly. “I am alright.” 

Even Thor could see through that lie. Disregarding his brother’s denial, he reached over for the cord beside his bed and pulled it to ring for a servant. 

“Bring us some fruit, if you please. An assortment,” he said to the young woman who answered his summons. “And perhaps a small amount of bread and cheese.” 

She gave a nod. “Of course, My Prince,” she said, then immediately turned and left the room. If she thought it odd to see the future king sitting in his room conversing with a slave, she did not show it. 

“Th-Thor?” 

“Yes? What is it brother?”

“Would you… did you really… have you ordered all that for _me_?”

Thor laughed. “Of course, brother! That is nothing compared to what I have seen you eat before! Surely you remember?”

“Of course,” said Loki quietly, mournfully. 

Thor gave him a strange look, but said nothing. He still lacked an appreciation of just how little the slaves were fed, so he couldn’t understand the offense of his comment.

“It should be here shortly. Then we shall eat. And afterwards perhaps you would like to sleep?”

Loki looked at him with what looked like distrust. “Should I not return to my duties, Thor? I likely have much to do this afternoon.” 

Thor shrugged. “I’m sure they will find someone else to complete your tasks.”

“But I could be punished!” exclaimed Loki, his eyes wide and fearful. 

“I will see to it that it does not happen,” Thor said firmly. “I will not allow anyone to harm my brother.” 

Loki lowered his gaze. “I don’t think you can prevent that, Thor. Slaves are beaten regularly. That’s just how it is.” 

Thor was shocked. “You’re telling me that slaves are beaten often? Surely they don’t transgress so frequently?”

“Transgression is very loosely defined,” Loki replied, looking away. 

The nausea rose again inside of the golden prince. How could this have been happening to people without his knowledge? Was he really so blind? 

“I… I am so sorry, Loki,” he said sickly, “I feel I have failed you as a brother.”

The slave furrowed his brow in confusion. “But Thor, I have brought this on myself. It is just punishment for what I have done.” 

Thor’s jaw dropped. “You honestly believe that?” 

“It’s the only method of coming to terms with my fate that I can find. If I did not accept that there was a justification for this treatment, I don’t think I could survive it.” 

A single tear rolled down Thor’s cheek as he stared at his brother in sickness and in horror. This could not have happened to Loki. Nothing could reduce him to this, nothing! 

“Please don’t cry,” Loki said softly. “I deserve this, Thor. There’s no need to be upset.” 

“But you don’t _want_ to live like this? Even if you think you deserve it? You _can’t_ tell me you are _satisfied_ , brother?” 

“Of course I am not satisfied, Thor. I live a life of deprivation. But you oughtn’t be upset about it.” 

“I am your brother, Loki,” insisted Thor. “I know that you deny this, but I regard you as kin just as I always have. Blood be damned! You are my brother, whom I love, and I cannot stand to see this happen to you.” 

“I am sorry,” Loki replied, a red flush creeping over his cheeks. _Shame_ , Thor realized. But before he could protest, the door opened and two servants entered, carrying silver platters filled with the food items he had ordered. 

Instantly his brother forgot his shame, and his face lit up with glee. 

“Oh, Thor, this looks… I cannot thank you enough! Thank you, thank you, it is too good for me!” 

The thunder god smiled. “Eat what you want, brother. But mind your stomach. I do not wish you to become ill.” 

“No, Thor,” Loki promised. Then he grabbed a peach and bit into it enthusiastically, not seeming to care when the juice ran down his chin. He moaned as if in ecstasy, and Thor simultaneously felt joy at seeing his brother’s happiness and sorrow at witnessing him derive such pleasure from something as simple as a piece of fruit. His standards for satisfaction had certainly once been infinitely higher. 

He sat and watched Loki eat, not wanting to take some for himself lest he choose something that Loki might want. 

His brother ate another peach, an apple, and two slices of bread and cheese before slowing down. Thor offered him water again, which he accepted, though more calmly this time. 

Afterwards, he suggested that perhaps Loki should nap now. Either the slave thought that to be a very good idea, or he took Thor’s suggestion as an order, because he immediately lowered himself onto the couch so that he was in a more comfortable sleeping position. 

“Come, brother.” Thor commanded. “You can sleep in my bed.” 

Loki’s brows rose high in surprise. “You really mean that, Thor?” 

“Yes, why not?” 

Loki slowly stood and walked over to the enormous bed, staring at it in wonder. He hesitantly reached out a hand and felt the soft blankets that covered it, a smile lighting up his face and a blissful sigh escaping his lips. 

Thor, too, smiled. “Here, brother. I will help you.” He pulled back the covers to allow Loki access to the bed, then guided him into it. Smoothing a hand through Loki’s hair, Thor gently helped him lie down before tugging the blankets back over him. 

“Sleep, brother,” he said. “I will return shortly.” 

*****

By now, Thor was very late to meet the Allfather. 

He’d barely been on time before - which would have been fine, given that Odin hadn’t yet arrived - but now that’d he spent over half an hour with Loki, he was quite tardy. 

The knot of emotion in his chest had lightened somewhat despite his continued exposure to Loki’s decline, but he still found himself somewhat agitated as he walked through the same hallways for the third time that day. He didn’t bother hurrying this time. He was already late, and having to rush would only be an additional aggravation on top of everything he had just seen. 

He hadn’t a clue what he would say to Odin when they came face-to-face. Would it be best to pretend he hadn’t seen Loki? Most likely - but how could he possibly hide the anger he felt at the Allfather for having sent his own son into such a miserable existence? It was inexcusable! 

Thor clenched his fists to keep his muted rage from displaying plainly on his face. It would not do for subjects to see their future king walking around inexplicably angry; they would form the wrong impression of what sort of person he was. And the people had to be able to place their confidence in him. It was crucial both to his own success and for the security of Asgard. 

That’s why he was meeting with Odin in the first place, to ensure that he would be prepared not only to perform his duties, but to satisfy the people and make them feel safe. 

Thor did care deeply for his homeland, for his beloved realm, but at the moment it was difficult for him to focus on that. It was neither his role as a prince nor a king that he wanted to fulfill right now. 

It was his role as a brother. 

And so, naturally, he was not quite in the right mindset as he once again reached the lounge where Odin stood waiting for him. 

“Thor,” acknowledged the Allfather, clearly irritated. 

“Father,” Thor returned shortly. He swept past Odin and sat down, not waiting for an invitation.

Odin looked at him quizzically but said nothing of it. 

“Now that you’re here,” he began, and Thor felt a rush of fury fly up inside of him, “let’s not waste any time. We have much to discuss.”

He sat down in an armchair adjacent to Thor’s, and immediately a slave moved forward to fill his glass, which sat on the table in front of them. Thor looked away, barely able to control himself. All he could see was Loki having to do these things, having to act as though he were lower than everyone around him. It wasn’t right. 

“Thor is something the matter?” Odin asked pointedly. “We really have not the time for such distractions.”

Thor turned and looked at him coldly for a moment, then said, “I have seen Loki.” 

For a moment there was a flash of something behind Odin’s eyes, but then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. 

“Ahh,” he said in response. “I see. And this has been enough to detract from your duties?” 

Thor looked at him angrily. “Of course it has! He is no longer himself, Father, he is fearful and unwell! The guards abuse him, did you know that? How could you _do_ this to him? Tell me how!” 

“Enough!” snapped Odin, standing up abruptly. “You think I wanted this for him? Sometimes when you are the king, you must do things that you do not wish to; you must give orders that break your heart! Loki is my son, no matter what he has done, but I am first and foremost a king! Slavery was the only sentence severe enough to justify not sending him to his death.” 

“You would have killed your own son?” Thor snarled. 

“When he came before me in chains, he was a subject of the realm just as much as he was my son! Any other would have been summarily executed. I could not show him favor. Perhaps it would have been more merciful to sentence him to death, I do not know. But I could not bring myself to kill him. So I balanced my weakness with my obligation as a ruler. There was nothing else I could have done for Loki.”

“I refuse to accept that.” Thor said shortly. 

“Then you are a fool,” answered Odin simply. “To give Loki a lighter sentence would have been to show him clear favor based on familial relation. I cannot allow, and neither when you are king must you allow, such partiality to occur. A king must be fair. Remember that.” 

“From what I have learned about Loki’s life today, I do not see the fairness in forcing _anyone_ into this lifestyle, regardless of what they have done,” Thor said flatly. 

“Ahh, but you speak of a different issue there,” replied the Allfather. “What you have just said regards not merely Loki, but the institution of slavery itself.” 

Thor frowned. “I suppose you’re right. But it’s even worse that my _brother_ should have to suffer such an existence.”

“Naturally,” Odin agreed. “But while it would be inappropriate to show lenience to Loki in particular, it would not be as frowned upon to make alterations to the nature of slavery as a whole.”

Thor was silent for a moment. “I just know that I must do something. I cannot leave Loki alone now that I have seen him.”

“Where did your paths cross?” Odin asked.

“Here. In this room. He must have been helping to prepare for our arrival.” 

The Allfather frowned. “That was quite an oversight. He should not have been placed on this assignment. I shall have to send someone to have a word with the head of the overseers.” 

“I am glad that he was here.” Thor said quietly. “Now I know that he needs my help.” 

Odin seemed to realize at the moment what was going on. “My son, where is Loki now? Why is he not still here?”

“I have taken him to my room. The guards were beating him; I could not keep from intervening.” 

“Thor, as painful as I’m sure that was to see, you should not have taken him there,” Odin said urgently. “Do you wish people to question your ability to rule fairly?” 

“No, of course not!” exclaimed Thor. “I just had to protect my brother.” 

Odin shook his head. “You must be a king, Thor. No matter what that means.” 

Angrily, the thunder god stood up, walking several steps away from his chair and turning toward the wall. 

Odin sat down and reached for his wine glass. “I think there is no point in trying to continue our meeting now,” he suggested, taking a sip of his drink. “Let’s reconvene in three days time. For now, go. Collect your thoughts and emotions.” 

Without turning around, Thor nodded curtly and immediately moved to exit the lounge. 

The prince had already left the room when Odin called after him, “Oh, and Thor?” 

The sound of Thor’s footsteps ceased abruptly. 

“Return Loki to his duties.”

Had Odin been sitting closer to where Thor stood, he would have heard the low growl that formed in the back of his son’s throat. 

*****

Loki felt himself stir awake, wanting to stretch his limbs, but not wishing to draw unwanted attention to himself. There was still a drowsiness lingering behind his closed eyelids, but he could sense that he was much better rested than he had been in a long time. 

The ground where he lay felt divine. 

What cell was he in, for the ground to be this soft? All the others he had spent his nights in had been equally cold and uncomfortable. But this one was warm and _so soft_ … it couldn’t be possible, could it? Why would he be shown such favor? Or did the Enforcers even realize that this particular cell was any different from the rest? 

Then he froze. 

There was something on top of him. A blanket. Was he in a bed?? How?? Why?! He wasn’t privately owned, couldn’t be privately owned, Odin had said so himself! Did he now belong to a specific individual? Was he to be the bed slave of some noble or warrior? No, he couldn’t be, public slaves weren’t permitted to be used in such a way! This couldn’t be happening to him, no no no! 

In desperation, Loki flung the covers off of himself and attempted to get out of the bed, but in his weakened state, he became tangled in the sheets and fell roughly to the ground. Suppressing a sob, he frantically looked around for a place to run, for a place to hide. Had he been raped already? Was it possible that he had been so brutally violated that he had lost all memory of what had occurred? It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t! 

He hobbled toward the door to try and escape, but before he could reach it, the gilded paneling swung open with a crash, revealing a clearly infuriated Thor. 

With a yelp, Loki fell backwards and scrambled into a corner, hiding his face with his hands. 

“Loki!” Thor bellowed. Why was he here, why was Thor angry, what had he done??

He tried to shove himself even further into the corner. 

“Loki,” Thor said again, much more gently this time. “I did not mean to frighten you, brother. Forgive me, I mean you no harm. I am simply outraged at what has happened to you. Can you come away from the wall?” 

Trembling, Loki lowered his hands and crawled toward Thor. 

“Brother!” Thor exclaimed, falling to his knees. “Why do you crawl? What ails you?” He reached over benignly and pulled Loki toward him. 

“I would have fallen again had I tried to stand.” Loki mumbled. 

Thor gathered him into a hug. “Then we shall sit here on the ground, brother.” 

Loki stiffened. Would Thor try to take him right now, on the stone floor? 

The god of thunder frowned. “Loki, what is the matter? Do you remember why you are here?” 

“I - ” Loki began. But then he paused. Should he know why he was here?

“I am not sure…” 

“You are in my room, brother. I brought you here to rest. You ate and drank, and then I left you to sleep. Do you not remember at all?”

Yes, he did remember. Now that he recalled where he was and recognized that he was not condemned to serve in another’s bed, the memories came back to him. 

He had been rude, so rude; he had acted so inappropriately! He had accepted gifts that he had no right to be offered in the first place. He had spoken out of turn. He had slept in a freeman’s _bed_. He had broken every rule imaginable, yet the prince of Asgard now knelt beside him, providing comfort to a mere slave.

It made no sense. 

“I remember,” he said softly. “I do not deserve your kindness.” 

Thor pulled him closer. “You are always worthy of my kindness, brother. What I have done for you today pales in comparison to what I feel I must do to compensate for your suffering.”

Loki bit his lip. “What do you mean, Thor? What is it that you feel you must do?” 

“I do not know, exactly,” Thor sighed. “I am greatly confused and conflicted inside. I wish so deeply to end your slavery, but that is not something that I have the power to do, it seems…” 

“My slavery is meant to be eternal…”

“I know, but I cannot allow that,” Thor said firmly. “I cannot. I must return you to your overseers today, but I will not abandon you. I will make this right, brother.” 

“But what is there to make right?” Loki blurted out. “I killed hundreds of people; I sought to enslave an entire planet and annihilate another. Surely you would have me punished for these crimes?”

Thor shook his head, clenching his teeth. “Our father insists on your punishment, certainly. I have not the authority to defy him, else much would be different.”

He stood up, offering a hand to his brother just as he had offered a hand to Sif earlier that morning. “Come, Loki. I must take you back.” 

Loki couldn’t help it - his face fell. He knew, he had always known, that this reprieve would not last forever. Yet it still terrified him to have to return to the custody of the cruel guards once more. He would probably be punished for missing work, and even though he had obtained some valuable rest, he wasn’t sure that his body could take another beating so soon. 

Crying silently, he accepted Thor’s hand and allowed the prince to pull him up. Whereas the Lady Sif had not needed the thunder god’s help, the assistance was quite necessary for Loki, who shook unsteadily on his feet even after he had established his balance. 

He expected Thor to say something about it, but the blonde-haired prince only pressed his mouth into a tight line and guided him forward. “Where should I take you, brother?” 

“There is bound to be someone in the kitchens who knows where help is needed.” 

Thor nodded, but still said nothing. Loki could feel him growing tenser as they progressed toward their destination. 

He suspected that his intensifying shivering had something to do with it, but there was little he could do about that. He was afraid of what awaited him. 

When they reached the kitchens, Thor grabbed hold of the first overseer he could find and pushed him aggressively against the wall. “If I hear of _anyone_ , and I mean _anyone_ , hurting my brother today, there will be Hel to pay. Is that understood?” he growled.

Looking bewildered, the overseer nodded, “Yes, my prince.” 

Thor released him. “Good.” He turned towards Loki and placed both hands on shoulders. “We will see each other again, brother. Be well.” He drew his enslaved sibling into a hug and held him tightly. 

Then he was gone. 

Loki let out a shuddering breath. Back to normal now. Back in the custody of those who knew him only as “slave.” 

He hoped Thor’s orders would be obeyed. He desperately hoped for that. Needed that. 

He could feel the eyes of both slaves and freemen scrutinizing him, wondering why they had just seen Prince Thor treat him like family and insist that mercy be shown to him. Perhaps they would hold a grudge against him now, which would make his life much harder, but if that was their intention, nothing he could do would prevent it. All he could do was stand there, keeping his eyes lowered as his superiors decided where he should be assigned. 

A brief discussion between the overseers resulted in him being sent to empty chamber pots in the servant quarters - unpleasant work, for sure, but it seemed that the prince’s words had been taken seriously. 

He was not beaten. 

For the rest of the day, in fact, he remained untouched. 

*****

When he returned to his cell that night, the Enforcer who had abused him that morning sat trembling amongst the slaves, his hair newly cropped and his body littered in fresh bruises and lashes.


	2. BONUS CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the last sentence of Brother's Burden. A quick look into the (ex-)enforcer's mind. Just something I wanted to explore. I actually wrote this back in October right after I posted BB, but I wanted to wait and post this as a preview to Part 3 of the "To Go On Living" series. 
> 
> Just FYI, we won't see any of this character in Part 3, but I'm planning a decent bit of involvement for him in Part 4.

The shock hit him in paralyzing waves, vibrating down the length of his limbs and racking his body with violent, unrelenting shivers. The tremors that inundated his burly frame would not cease, no matter how long he remained cowering in the cold, dark, fetid cell that now confined him. 

He couldn’t process what had happened, couldn’t quite believe that this was reality. It couldn’t be reality in fact. Nothing made sense. 

_My name is Einarr_ , he kept telling himself, _My name is Einarr._

They’d tried to teach him earlier that day that he no longer had a name, that he was no longer of any significance. But it couldn’t be true. 

It couldn’t. 

It was preposterous that he, a respected and influential Enforcer of slave conduct, would be reduced to something less than even the dirtiest of beasts! Yet here he was, locked in a cage like an animal and shaking both from fear and from the cold, as he had not yet been issued rags like those worn by the other slaves around him. Clothing had been withheld from him as a punishment for refusing to accept this new position, this unexpected change in status… 

It did not make sense. 

Nothing had made sense since late in the afternoon, when two massive guards had approached him from behind and seized his arms, taking him by surprise. He had been dragged to an underground room, where he had been forced to his knees and informed that it was the crown prince’s order that he serve as a slave from this day forward. 

He’d thought it was a prank at first, but it had soon become clear, and now remained _astonishingly_ clear, that this was no joke.

Denial overwhelmed him, enveloped him. The intense disbelief immobilized him in his shock as he numbly thought to himself, _Can this actually be happening?_

It seemed so. No matter how often he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the nightmare, the situation always remained the same when he opened them once more. A dank cell, dark and drafty. Slaves surrounding him on every side, the extent of their suffering evident from their broken bodies and haggard faces. Hunger gnawing at him as he saw the others eating the paltry evening meal that he himself had not received. 

Was this to be his life now? Would not his former colleagues recognize him, sympathize with him? Surely they would not beat him like a common slave? And what of his family? Would he be allowed to see them? His wife, his young son, his infant daughter? Would they now reject him as an outcast, as a disgusting piece of vermin? 

And what would happen if he were ever freed? The lingering shame of slavery would follow him even if officially he were no longer enthralled, would prevent him from obtaining any kind of decent work… Would he have to support his family by begging on the streets? If they hadn’t abandoned him, that is?

He involuntarily released a sob, earning glares from several of his new cellmates. Shame washed over him and he buried his head in his arm, sinking his teeth into his wrist to stop any more pathetic sounds from escaping his throat. Though this position obstructed his sight, he could hear the shuffle of rags as the other slaves lay themselves down on the unforgiving stone to pursue their badly needed rest. 

Left with no better options and desperately wanting to end this horrid day, he followed their example, falling into an immediate but fitful sleep. 

**

The guards came for him the next morning, dragging him to the dreaded place where so many before him had been unmanned.

He cried when he saw the blade.


End file.
